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IT WAS HER touch that thrilled me most. Her hands were warm. Even on the
coldest days, when we'd been walking through the black snow, her hands were
warm.
 She was pretty, almost beautiful, and cheerful. But that wasn't why I loved
her. I loved her because she made me laugh. She brought me out of the
darkness of my shame, and into the light of pride. "It's okay to be
different," she said. "I love you because you're different." And she squeezed
my hand and smiled, her eyes twinkling.
Maybe there was one thing I felt awkward about, but it was only one thing.
She was too happy.
Isn't that strange? Why should it ever bother me that she was so happy? But
it did bother me, because I always felt that she'd be happy even without me.
She was a good-natured, considerate person. She always did what would please
me, but at times I felt she only cared because she pitied me.
And then I overheard some of the elders talking. "He's clever," one said.
"We need him to survive. He can see the storms coming, he knows how to
protect us."
Another said "But if he leaves? Where will we be?"
"He won't leave. He loves her," the first said.
"And if she decides that she doesn't want to take care of him any more?"
"Then we're doomed."
"Not us, surely."
"Not us, maybe. But our future. The children will need him."
*
I walked away. Had she really only pretended to love me? She had told me
often enough.
I caught sight of her, and hurried over. "Do you love me?" I asked.
"Of course I do." But she had replied too quickly. I knew she didn't love
me. If she loved me she would have been surprised at the question.
"When the next storm comes, I will be gone. You and your people may stay
here in the valley, hiding in your caves, but I will be gone. You don't
love me. You only need me."
She was crying as I walked away. I wanted to pretend that she was crying
for me. But she wasn't.
*
I didn't have much to carry, so I travelled quickly. I didn't know where
I was going, but I knew that I couldn't stay. When the clouds billowed
overhead and threatened rain I sought shelter in a small cave, really no
more than an overhanging rock.
The rain hissed and steamed as it burned into the ground, and suddenly,
from far away, I heard a voice screaming, crying. I pulled my weathercape
from my pack. I couldn't leave anyone to burn in the rain.
I ran through the boiling downpour, and came to the place where a girl hid
under the minimal protection of a dead tree. It was her.
"Why did you come after me?" I asked as I brought her under the safety of
the cape.
"You can't leave. We need you."
"You don't love me. Why should I stay?"
"Because we need you."
"That's not enough. I need to be loved, not used."
"You're being a fool. You can't put your own needs above the lives of so
many others."
The rains had stopped. I stood back from her, and said "I loved you, and
you used me."
"I know. I'm sorry, but our needs come first. The group must survive,
however we can. Would you do any different?"
I looked at the sky. The clouds were thinning. "No. You're right. I'll
come back with you."
We walked back to the valley. Presently the sun broke through. It was a
weak, feeble light, but it offered some hope.
Maybe she didn't really love me, but I loved her enough for two. We walked
on, and she put her hand in mine. I didn't mind. Her hand was warm.
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